Shallow Creek

by Alistair McIntyre

  Her eyes dropped, sheepishly avoiding his. “We don’t really talk that much.”

  “Oh, okay,” Brendan said, feeling that awkwardness that came from knowing something bad has happened between two people, but not knowing what the heck it could be. “Listen, you got some time to kill?”

  She brightened up. “Yeah, I don’t have to be at work ‘til noon.”

  Brendan hefted the twelve-pack up. “You down to share a drink with an old buddy?”

  “Uh, it’s ten in the morning,” she said. “A bit early for me.”

  Now Brendan was the one feeling sheepish. “Right, sure. Just a joke.”

  She nodded uneasily, but said, “You can buy me a world-renowned gas station coffee, though.”

  “Sounds good.” He put the beer back in the cooler and escorted Kim to the coffee station.

  While she prepared the generic-looking caffeinated coffee, Brendan decided it was a little hot outside to be messing with warm drinks. He headed for the back coolers and grabbed two bottles of water. When he returned, Kim was smiling and ready to go. He paid for their drinks at the cash register, and then went outside with Kim in tow. A quick visual sweep of the area didn’t reveal Casey or Scott Fisher’s thugs lying in wait anywhere.

  The gas station wasn’t exactly fit for purpose when it came to entertaining guests, so there weren’t any chairs or tables outside. No one else was parked at the pumps, and the overhang above them provided the only shelter from the sun, so Brendan led Kim over to his mom’s truck and popped the tailgate down. They sat down on the open tailgate and let their legs dangle off the edge.

  “I wouldn’t have figured you as the small truck kind of guy,” Kim noted, checking out the Ford Ranger.

  “My mom asked me to put gas in her truck since I was heading down here for supplies,” Brendan said. “I drive an F-250.”

  “That seems more your style.”

  This felt nice, hanging out with Kim. Pressing things flew around in his mind, demanding his attention, but sitting with Kim alleviated the desire to deal with any of them. Brendan and Kim swung their legs in silence and exchanged fleeting smiles.

  “In the store, did you say Casey knows my cousin?” Kim asked suddenly.

  “I’ll let you ask her about it,” Brendan replied. “It’s none of my business.”

  “Oh, okay. Sure.”

  And that broke the spell. Brendan’s train of thought leapt off the idyllic track of relaxation and chugged away down a different line, stuck now on the same track his mind had fixated on since his long walk home the night before. He didn’t waste much time before putting a further damper on the mood.

  “You mind me asking what happened between you and Michelle?” he asked.

  “What happened to a simple, ‘Hey Kim, how’s life been since high school?’” she replied coyly.

  Brendan didn’t smile. “I’m serious.”

  Kim stared into her coffee and stirred it a few times with a small stick.

  “Why?” she replied. That was a good question.

  “I’ve had a few rough experiences since I got back,” he said. “I’m just trying to make sense of things.”

  She stayed quiet for a moment, now staring down the empty highway. “Um, it’s kind of personal.”

  “Sure, you don’t have to tell me.” He hoped that she would.

  To his disappointment, she hopped off the tailgate. Instead of walking away, she turned to him.

  “Maybe one day I’ll tell you,” she said, captivating his gaze with her deep green eyes. “Thanks for the coffee, but it sounds like you’ve got a lot going on up here.” She tapped him gently on the forehead. “Why don’t you get that stuff squared away, then give me a call.” When Brendan didn’t immediately react, she added, “I mean it. I’d like to catch up.”

  “Okay,” he said, still irked that she hadn’t told him what he wanted to know.

  “It’s a little embarrassing, but I live in the apartment above my mom’s garage,” she said as she started to walk around the side of the truck. “Just swing by sometime when you’re ready.”

  Brendan watched her walk towards a beat-up Chevy coupe, noticing the easy sway in her hips. His brain tried its best to keep him on the investigative track, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. Her movements hypnotized him, but his brain eventually won out.

  She stopped halfway across the empty parking lot when he called out, “Did Michelle ever do meth?”

  Without turning her body, she slowly peered back over her shoulder in his general direction.

  “Don’t be a stranger, Brendan.”

  With that, she strode more purposefully to her car, and a minute later Brendan was sitting all alone on the back of his mother’s pickup.

  Chapter 18

  As per regulations established long before Brendan’s birth, Saturday night in the Rhodes household revolved around one thing, and one thing only: Texas football. True to form, Brendan and both his parents sat engrossed by the burnt orange Longhorns as they continued to trounce state rivals Texas Tech in the second quarter of this game. Brendan sat back in his chair as the game clock closed in on halftime. His dad had ignored him all day long since he’d returned from his gas station rendezvous with Kim Prost earlier. Yet now here they sat, father and son, watching the Texas game and bullshitting freely about blown calls and poor tackling as if nothing was wrong.

  Each of them downing a few beers along the way probably helped ease the tension, but Brendan wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. He finally felt at home for the first time since showing up at his parents’ house. It was relaxing. He hadn’t even realized just how on-edge he’d been with them in the last few days, not until finally letting some of the stress go.

  Halftime arrived and Brendan wondered if this newfound camaraderie with his father would continue past the fourth quarter.

  “Another beer, son?” his dad asked, standing up from his trusty recliner.

  “Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Thanks.”

  When Brendan’s dad disappeared around the corner into the kitchen, his mother struck up conversation with him. She liked football fine, but Brendan could tell she’d been eager to talk the entire way through the first half.

  “So you saw Kim today?” she asked.

  “Yup, at the gas station,” he replied. “Like I told you earlier.”

  His mother’s eyes glazed over a bit as she stared off into the corner of the room.

  “Oh, those Prost girls were so sweet to you in high school,” she said whimsically. “I don’t mind telling you that I always thought you’d end up marrying Michelle.”

  “Yeah.” Brendan hadn’t shared those same thoughts until recently.

  His mom turned to him, more serious now. “Such a shame about that lowlife father of theirs. Running off in the middle of the night without a word.” She shook her head, privately condemning the man who’d abandoned his wife with two daughters still in high school. Brendan only vaguely remembered the circumstances, and he’d never really gotten a full explanation out of Michelle back then.

  His dad returned with a Coors Light for himself and one of the Shiners Brendan had picked up at the gas station earlier. Damn things had cost an arm and a leg, but he’d been too lazy to go to the grocery store just for cheaper beer. He thanked his dad as the elder Rhodes reclaimed his throne in front of the TV.

  The sportscaster started the roundup of the day’s Big 12 action, which featured insane offensive displays from WVU, Baylor, and TCU. Brendan’s dad appeared indifferent to the highlight reels until the show’s host added a side note about Texas A&M getting crushed by LSU earlier in the afternoon. This got a hearty laugh out of the old man, who turned and remarked, “Serves those Aggies right for jumping ship.”

  Brendan nodded in agreement as he took another drink out of his beer. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Not many people had that number. He faltered for a moment, wondering if Scott Fisher was contacting him for some reason. Slowly he pulled the phone out of
his pocket. A sigh of relief deflated the paranoia; it was just Michelle. He still thought she’d acted like a bitch the night before, but the fact that she was even calling him was a good sign, right?

  “I’ve got to take this.” He wandered back towards the kitchen. He overcame his slight annoyance with her for last night’s behavior and answered the phone on the fifth ring.

  “Hi, Tenny.” Brendan could hear small tears in her voice. “I know last night didn’t end well, but can you come over? I can’t get over everything that happened. I’m scared to be in the house alone and—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” His heart melted as she rambled on through tears. “I’ll be right over.”

  His dad glared at him for a moment at the news he was leaving to check on Michelle. His parents didn’t know the whole story, but he’d given enough details that his absence shouldn’t have been a problem. Of course, just when Brendan had worked his way back into his dad’s good books, here he was ruining Saturday night football. Back to square one.

  On the ride over to Michelle’s place, he forced himself to separate out all the nasty feelings he’d contended with last night while he walked back this way from her house. Between kicking those guys’ asses, and then having Michelle yell at him, he’d been pretty wired. The walk had flown by, and before he knew it, his parents’ house had appeared in front of him. By comparison, the drive over took way longer as he thought about Michelle crying in fear.

  She opened the door before he’d even finished knocking. He stepped inside and closed the door moments before she hugged him as if her life depended on it. After letting her crush his ribs for a while, Brendan felt a bit uncomfortable and gingerly peeled her off. Her makeup was running all down her cheeks, so he grabbed a tissue out of the box sitting on a short cabinet next to the front door. She took it from him and dabbed under her eyes with little effect.

  “How about a beer?” she asked, heading towards the open kitchen.

  “Sure.” He followed slowly, taking in the expansive mobile home. “Just one, though. I’ve got to drive home.”

  Really he just wanted to keep his wits about him in case trouble did show up, and homicidal meth dealers weren’t his only concern. Things could easily get out of hand when two attractive adults got drunk together.

  She met him in living room with his beer as he picked up one in a series of framed photos sitting on a long end table next to one of the couches. He took the bottle from her and thanked her. Michelle smiled and clinked her very full wine glass against his beer. When she took a sip, he noticed she wasn’t wearing her wedding rings. She probably took them off to clean the toilet, or something like that.

  “Where was this picture taken?” he asked, indicating the one in his hand. Michelle and Grant were on a beach somewhere nice.

  “Bora Bora.”

  “Very nice,” he said, surprised. “What about these?”

  She pointed at each picture in turn and rattled off the exotic locales. “Paris, Hawaii, the Seychelles, and Gibraltar.”

  “Wow, not bad at all.”

  “We like to travel a lot. You only live once, right?”

  Michelle sat on one of the couches, so Brendan purposefully took a seat on the other couch, keeping the end table between them. Her eyes showed some understanding, but she didn’t comment on his choice.

  They sat and chatted about the kids and vacations. Brendan hadn’t really had what most people would consider a vacation, but he’d been to a number of the places that Grant and Michelle had visited. None of the timelines matched up, so they wouldn’t have run into each other by accident.

  “Can I get you another beer?”

  Brendan’s head already felt a little foggy, but he figured it would be rude to refuse, even if he’d told her earlier he only wanted one.

  “Sure.”

  She returned with a beer and another full glass of wine. The whole bottle had probably gone into those two glasses. That wasn’t really Brendan’s concern, though. She was already home, and the kids were presumably asleep in their rooms. So what if Mom had a few drinks?

  Brendan knocked his beer back as Michelle tried to turn the conversation back to recent events. Not really wanting to engage in any of that, Brendan dodged most of her questions, but found himself reacting slower and slower. When the room started to spin, Brendan briefly considered that alcohol might interact negatively with the meds the doctor had given him in the hospital. The doc had mentioned something like that, he thought.

  Maybe he shouldn’t be driving home after all. Michelle would probably let him crash on the couch. Yeah, that was a good idea.

  Chapter 19

  Cool air drifted across Brendan’s stomach as woke up. The reminder that he was waking up in Grant’s old bed at his parents’ house grossed him out yet again. He decided to just keep his eyes closed a little longer. Oddly, he had a graphic, yet blurry image of making love to his brother’s wife play out behind his eyelids. Seeing no harm or foul in it, he let his imagination roll on, amazed by the clarity. When he felt a weirdly uncomfortable stirring down below, he opened his eyes and saw he was wearing a dried-out condom.

  He shot up in bed in a panic and took in the strange room in an instant. This wasn’t the right room.

  Michelle lay naked beside him, her back turned to him as she snoozed peacefully. Brendan hated to even touch her, knowing what was going to happen next, but he had to. At first he barely grazed her shoulder, but that got nothing more than a slight stir. Knowing he had to rip the Band-Aid off this one, he shook her gently. As she groggily rolled onto her back, he tugged the sheet up to cover her breasts.

  “Hey, honey,” she said, her voice still lost in a dream. “I didn’t know you were coming home—” She paused and her face scrunched up as Brendan climbed out of the bed and retrieved his pants. “Brendan?”

  He pulled his pants up quickly with her watching. “Yup.”

  Michelle sat up, carefully hugging the sheet against her chest.

  “What the hell?” she demanded. “What did you do?”

  “What did I do?” he snapped back, searching the big room for his shirt. “Are you kidding me? Looks pretty obvious that we both did something.”

  “Holy shit, holy shit. You can’t tell Grant about this. He’ll kill me.”

  “I’m not going to tell Grant. That’s the last person I ever want to talk to, anyway.”

  Michelle slid from the bed, dragging the sheet off with her.

  “I’m not joking,” she said, imploring him now. “He’ll kill me. Really. You don’t know him.”

  Brendan got his shirt on and sat down on the floor to pull his shoes on.

  “And I’m not joking either. I know what he’s like. Trust me: I’m not saying a damn thing.”

  While Brendan struggled to get his fingers to tie his shoelaces, Michelle turned away from him to drop the sheet and pull on a silk bathrobe. She was one beautiful woman, and as much as Brendan regretted whatever had happened last night, he really wished he could at least remember and savor the moments. All he had was the vague recollection of a fading daydream. With that in mind, he got off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. Michelle paced back and forth in front of him.

  “Do you remember anything from last night?” he asked her.

  She didn’t take her eyes off the floor. “It’s all a bit fuzzy right now. I think we drank a lot.”

  True enough, an empty bottle of wine and six discarded beer bottles littered the bedroom. God only knew how much booze had been consumed elsewhere first. His headache definitely attested to the fact that he’d greatly surpassed his two-beer limit.

  Michelle stopped in her tracks, her eyes widened, and she turned to face Brendan.

  “You told me you loved me.”

  She might as well have slapped him in the face.

  “Wha—”

  Her face betrayed no lies, only twisted pain.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, avoiding her tearful gaze.

  She came
and sat right next to him on the bed. Part of him just wanted to dive right out the window, but the other part urged him to comfort his friend, to take her in his arms and make everything okay.

  To hell with that idea. Nothing was going to be okay about this.

  Instead, he opted for a middle ground where he did nothing, not even when she put a hand on his thigh. Movement in his groin defied his best efforts to control everything. He normally would’ve thought a hangover like this would prevent any further escapades, but his body was doing its best to prove him wrong.

  “You asked me the other night if Grant had ever hit me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “The simple answer is no, he hasn’t,” she said, tears forming again. “But he can be a real son of a bitch, you know?”

  Brendan certainly did.

  “It hurts just as much—”

  He didn’t even know what she was talking about, but in that moment he didn’t really care. Brendan put an arm around her and pulled her close. She said he professed his love for her. Honestly, he didn’t doubt it. Sitting here with her in his arms, ignoring all the guilt, he could sense more than just friendly feelings for her.

  “What did you say?” he whispered.

  “When?”

  “When I said I loved you.”

  “I—”

  “Mom! Mom!”

  Michelle broke away from Brendan and closed the open door leading to the hallway.

  “The kids are up,” she whispered harshly. “You need to leave now.”

  “But—”

  “Come on, Tenny. I’ll distract them and you leave. Okay?”

  “Okay, whatever.”

  “And don’t tell Grant,” she said. “Please.”

  He nodded and moved out of line of sight. Michelle opened the door and rushed into the hallway. Brendan could hear her casually corral the noisy toddler. She yelled out an all clear, and even though her voice was muffled, he knew that was his cue. The kids’ bedroom door was closed as he passed by in the hallway, and he could hear Michelle’s soft voice as she distracted her children.

  Just as he suspected, empty beer bottles littered the living room and kitchen. At first he didn’t even think it was possible he drank that much, but the evidence didn’t lie. Walking felt a bit uncomfortable; taking the condom off before putting his pants on would’ve been a good idea. Now the damn thing was tugging precariously on his privates and threatening to disengage all together. He dragged himself onwards in slow motion as he battled the effects of a tenacious hangover. If this was the only price he paid for last night’s stupidity, he’d be heading to Vegas next week to try his luck there on the slots.